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Archive for September, 2010

All morning I’ve been thinking about fucking nineteen year old boys. Not any specific one, just a regular lineup of lithe little hard-muscled confused-yet-focused horny boys with motor hips and little curved dicks that don’t stop.

It’s because last night I ran across a video of Carol Cox with just the title of “Fucking a 19 Year Old”. I’m well aware of Carol Cox and that she fucks lots of people on her site and has lots of videos out there, but in my head it’s not something I crave to watch. Only by random surfing would I click and watch that, which is what makes it so out-of-the-blue to get so “inspired” by the awesomeness of it, just her smiling while this kid grunts his hips into her. No music, just those flesh-slapping fuck-sounds. No bullshit overproduction . . . it made it very voyeuristic, especially because I can imagine her husband Danny standing there behind the camera watching this kid who is decades younger than he is, fucking his wife.

We watched A Single Man the other night which had many beautiful young men in it and more than once I said out loud, Oh my god . . . I can’t even imagine being AROUND guys that age again. The chatter! The idealism! The way they think all these things they think and feel are NEW and mature and WOW!!

But somehow just watching Carol lying there having a torso of teen muscles pumping into her it made me realize it IS possible to have the cock without all of the talk. And I’m not a big old meanie, I probably would find a few of them charming in other ways, too.

Maybe all of the effort of lining such things up and getting hotel rooms and kids flaking out would be worth it — after all, it WOULD be a lot easier to shoot than us trying to shoot ourselves, which makes things more technical than we’d like them to be AND uses up both of our “talents” for only one piece of content. It really would make more sense for us to be regularly fucking other people for our sites.

I know, I keep saying it but keep hesitating. I don’t like all of the planning and rigmarole and relying-on-other-people involved in endeavors like that, especially living in an out-of-the-way place as we do; it’s really expensive and time consuming to get together with people away from home (and there’s no way we’re inviting strangers to our house to fuck us). Plus I am pretty sure (but not 100%) that Carol Cox and her husband actually do pay the guys featured in her videos – it’s a lot more professional than the way it’s presented in the fantasyland of the porn site (and I mean that in a GOOD way). We honestly can’t afford to pay other people for sex. OR waste time picking them up in bars (plus I hate bars, anyway).

But then I think how nice it would be to make something hot to look at just by lying there and enjoying some hormone-crazed fuck-machine of a teenager. Making him pull out and shoot big loads of spunk all over my tits. Thinking about this gives me very pleasant feelings.

Of course, I’d like to make them “audition” with a slightly-humiliating interview and videotaped jerk-off session first. I want to ask them questions and hear their voices shake while their impatient pricks twitch in their pants.

I look forward to the time when we have a stable of reliable boys (and/or GROWN men) like this to shoot with whenever we want to. I’m just not sure when, if ever, we’ll invest the time in finding and grooming them. Are you wondering why I’m more focused on shooting with men than women? Or why I’m emphasizing younger men as opposed to more age-appropriate lays? If so leave comments and maybe I’ll blog about it. Or just answer in the comments.

*****

God, I want someone to choke me. The RIGHT way. While I’m on top. Very few people have the touch or the right arm-length or understanding of how to not do it scary. It’s the pressure applied UP that I like to lean down into. I love the way it adds a tense time limit and everything slows down. Next time I find one who can do it I’m going to make him wear gloves, making it too difficult to get my pussy as far down on it as I suddenly want it to be. Because I’m held away. Just the tip.

*****

Delia has a hot semi-local who MIGHT shoot with her, but just the length of time of email back-and-forths and the guy’s lack of certainty about being on tape makes me think again that maybe it’s not worth the effort and bullshit. Of course I understand people’s reservations about being in porn, I just don’t have time to waste with their uncertainty or enough money to motivate them to treat it as more than just a fantasy they want to hot chat about late at night with no intention of following through. Oh wait, I asked Delia about that guy and apparently he’s actually ready to go, Delia’s just been waiting for the right time to schedule something. That’s exciting, right?

*****

Now I officially have two personal ads semi-written but not posted anywhere.

Here are a couple of pictures I adore from my most recent update for members:

Amateur Hairpie Sex Pic from TastyTrixie

I *love* this picture:

Happy natural amateur sex porn from Trixie

You can see some more free previews from this gallery HERE.

Sorry to be so brief . . . we’ve designated this afternoon starting at 2 pm and evening as TIME OFF OF WORK, so I’m hurrying to get a few things done (and feeling really good about the sweet porn we’ve shot over the past couple of days).

Tomorrow and Saturday we’ve got shows and members-only chat scheduled so maybe we’ll get to say hi to each other then! We changed our show times so that they’re at the same time both days, at 3 pm and 4 pm pacific (with members-only chat following at 5 on Saturday). I also tried out putting reminder text on our spycams, one of which shows our local time so you can figure out exactly what time it is here / how close to showtime or chat.

You can check out other people’s “Half Nekkid Thursday” pics for this week here (links are in the comments). If you like truly amateur / non-porn-pro stuff, you should definitely check it out.

Monday, 9/6/2010: Day 4

This is the day I moved a vibrator into the cabin.

Post-orgasm with the vibrator I brought to the cabin.

I still haven’t taken a nap here but now I’ve broken in the loft with masturbation and orgasms. There’s no internet access here (a good, preferable, integral thing to this whole cabin experience) and I don’t have any dirty books here, so I was very limited in terms of porn to accompany my vibrator time. I’ve only downloaded three videos (not counting that Gossip Girl episode) to this laptop and those were all for research purposes just to gauge their quality so out of those I chose to masturbate to a teaser video Delia made last year.

I skipped through the parts I’m in to get to the real meat of the thing/away from visions of myself. I wanted to come to her Twin Peaks-y schoolgirl-in-plaid-skirt-and-white-panties thing, but  it’s hard to time things just right with a short compilation video like that meant merely to entice. I’m a chick with a vibrator though, so I got off on it three times. It makes me extra excited, actually, and I come faster when I’m “afraid” that the part I like is going to end REALLY FAST . . . when I know my favorite parts are limited. I didn’t time it properly the first time and wound up climaxing as she was eating her cum on the donut (totally NOT what I want to orgasm to, though I love directing her to eat it), but I did better the other times.

I also wrote an outline and some notes for a short story. I might have done some other stuff, too.

You can check out other people’s “Half Nekkid Thursday” pics for this week here (links are in the comments). If you like truly amateur / non-porn-pro stuff, you should definitely check it out.

There’s another opportunity to worship women’s feet in Seattle on Thursday, September 9th (day after tomorrow) but this time I won’t be there. Hope to catch you at the next one! I’m *sure* you’ll have fun without me, though.

My end of summer beach feet with sandy, wrinkled soles.

I sort of promised myself that I’d only commit to another Foot Night if I had time to a) make peeptoes.com active, and b) schedule a few truly private sessions on top of the party to make the trip out there worth the investment of time and money. The times I’ve gone I was relatively busy but really only made enough money to cover the expense of the long drive + ferry ride and the cost of my pedicure and cheap shoes. It’s hard to be practical and say no to a foot party, though, when I love interacting with guys who are on the floor beneath me, pleasuring my feet!

Also, it’s just a lot more profitable and cost effective for me to stay home and do private shows on cam which I’ll be doing quite a bit more than usual to help pay for the cabin rental. It’s a good way to hook up with me (AND my feet, if you so desire): trixie.cammodels.com

Speaking of camming more often, Delia is available even more often than I am: deliats.cammodels.com

Nipple slip? I'm about to flash my big naturals on the beach!

Check out more preview pics from this beach gallery full of boobs, upskirts and toes!

9/5/2010 Cabin Day #3: word count: 955

The girl in the big house has a dog. A big dog I was afraid of when I first saw her and didn’t know who she was or why she was there, giving me a low woof. My heart started pounding and I hid around the corner from my own cabin door on the deck, wondering what to do. Because I’m afraid of dogs even if they have friendly benign-looking spots.

But everything’s okay now; I learned her name and already love her and am happy she’ll be here. I miss our dog and it felt so solid to pet this big new girl.

Don't want to turn on the heat yet so wearing thick hoody.

*****

I feel weird and self-conscious about the fix-it man and the girl in the big house knowing that I’m not actually LIVING in the cabin, but coming here to write. It sounds so fucking pretentious, but these people are nice so they are respectful, trying to make genuine curiosity as non-invasive and supportive as possible.  This town is full of  “artists” and other people who are totally full of shit, fanciful dreams, and beliefs in astrology and revolution. I’m not fully committed to being one of them, and every single position on the spectrum of fancies-herself-a-writer is an embarrassing place to be seen. Even with this cabin I’m nowhere near invisible.

9/4/2010 Cabin Day #2: Word Count: 3203

Before leaving home, I discovered voicemail from fix-it dude left last night. He called again as I was heading out the door. Very considerate, but I can’t think of a good time for him to come over to fix the shower so I say in an hour. This day is scratched because no matter how considerate anyone is, it is still an interruption or two or three. Four if you count having to talk on the phone. Should I wait for him to get here before I poop or hurry and try to push it out now and hope he doesn’t arrive mid-dump or soon thereafter (you can see and smell ALL in this cabin; the toilet‘s only 27% private)?

When will he be back to caulk it after assessing the job? Should I try to start working or wait for him to get back, finish, and be gone? Should I eat my potato salad or wait? Because you know I hate being interrupted when I’m eating or working; interruptions are diametrically opposed to The Purpose of The Cabin, at least on day two they are. And oops . . . What about the tools he left?

Point is, I still haven’t been naked in the cabin OR taken a nap!!!

Anyway, that whole business spanned the morning hours, including a field trip to the art store while I waited for him. I bought some soft colored pencils and black paper and got a mini-headache from some obnoxious twat wearing way too much perfume. I could’ve bought the electric skillet I want with that money but I decided colors are more in keeping with The Purpose of The Cabin than a skillet.

I started to draw some imaginary marsh plants (aka grass) in the back of the black sketchbook (I don’t want to ruin the front pages with my first “colour pencil” drawings) but it looked way better than I thought it would so I stopped because I was afraid I would ruin it. Instead I moved on to color a big girly I-Love-You heart for Delia while the fix-it guy caulked.

After he left I made Russian Caravan tea to sip with my potato salad (which the new guy at the store forgot to ring up so I got it for free, guiltlessly because I didn’t even notice his mistake until hours later) and another luna bar while watching an episode (The Grandfather) of Gossip Girl on my laptop, the only tv show we ever bought online to watch on the computer. This thing is so weak, though, that the video is all choppy. I only watched half. I wish I had a grey blazer like Chuck’s with a baby pink bowtie over a grey and white striped shirt. I’m too small and short to get suits off the rack, and even if I could afford Bass-like ensembles I’d wear them in a filthy wrinkled way. The cabin doesn’t have a spot to hang up long clothes and I’m glad. I haven’t showered in a week. I think I’m going to wait until this caulk cures and shower here, at the cabin, because it’s way nicer than our shower at home.

I know, Gossip Girl probably seems as diametrically opposed to The Purpose of The Cabin as fix-it man interruptions are, but I colored a fat junior-high heart for my girlfriend and have a book in here called “Tarot: Mirror to the Soul” (which I love in an almost totally non-ironic way) so maybe I’m not as earthy and/or sophisticated as you think I am.

It wasn’t my plan to stay at the cabin so many hours at a stretch, but I think I need to break it in real good before I can expect to accomplish anything. If things don’t work out tomorrow I’m going to work on my Chuck Bass impersonations and experiment with the toaster oven (I’ve never had/used one before).

I wonder if there’s any dream-come-true that doesn’t involve intellectually regressing to age ten?

9/3/2010 Cabin Day #1: 0 (zero) words

Loading stuff up in the van to take to the cabin I worried that the neighbors would think I was moving out and leaving Delia. Maybe that worry was just a projection of my own discomfort over making time alone/away a priority. Because there aren’t good models affirming pursuing time alone away from home unless it’s to do regular work that regular people do in the midst of whole bunches of other regular people. People who desire as much time alone as I do are widely regarded as unhealthy freaks or suspected of having other motives besides a simple need for solitude. Whatever the reason, I wanted to keep running back inside to hug Delia and get reassurance that whatever I‘m doing it‘s not what it might look like to the neighbors.

*****

At the cabin the wind blew and I wondered how come the skinny tall trees here don’t fall down. I amazed myself by not being annoyed that there’s a daycare with kid sounds a block away. I felt the sun on the back of my neck. I gazed at the crescent moon with breakfast around noon. I scratched up my arm and the back of my thigh on blackberry bush thorns. I figured out where I can stand and lie in the cabin with the blinds open without being seen by the girl in the big house or the people next door. I made a note to buy a couple of curtains to further hide myself when desired in those couple of places where I can be seen. I caught up on all of the pooping I didn’t get done while we were away from home for three nights.

I started to stop thinking about how to get down the ladder from the loft  (how do I mount it under the slant of roof? Do I turn around and climb it back down or just walk straight forward like I’m going down stairs?). I lit a candle. Then I blew it out when we left to get gas, but only $15 worth because we’re almost out of money until Tuesday so we didn’t reset the mileage on the odometer because our fuel gauge is broken/stuck on full.

*****

Things didn’t go exactly as planned, meaning I didn’t have time to plan to make things perfectly prepared.

Want to read more about Day One at The Cabin? I’m hiding the minute details after a break so as not to bore or overwhelm folks who don’t want to read about my zero word count day:

Read the rest of this entry »